CHAPTER THIRTY
Saturday, May 27
Andrew
After Kathryn disappeared into her house, Andrew stood beside his car as the minutes rode by. How could he return home as if nothing had happened? He had to tell Amy about Max now that his son knew, but the thought made him queasy.
A low thump of music interrupted the night, and the blinding headlights of a rugged Jeep swept the driveway and rolled to a stop. Andrew paused. Muffled voices came from inside the car, and the dome light flicked on before the passenger door slammed. Max stood, illuminated by the headlights, his long shadow cast against the garage door, staring at Andrew’s car.
Kathryn had been a shell of herself that evening. With the magic of secrecy zapped, their relationship felt bare, vulnerable. Andrew ached to put her back together. To make it right. And above all, he wanted Max to know he cared, so he didn’t grow up feeling like discarded leftovers from another man’s life.
The driver of the Jeep said something Andrew couldn’t hear, but Max waved them off, and the car reversed into the street. When the music from the Jeep faded as the car disappeared down the block, Max turned, then headed toward the front door.
“Max,” Andrew called, and Max turned. Andrew drew a steadying breath and lowered his voice. He took a few tentative steps closer. “Can you and I talk for a minute?”
Max squinted into Andrew’s unforgiving LED headlights. “I’m just here to get my stuff.”
“Listen, everyone’s had a long day. Can we go for a quick drive?”
Max leaned his weight on the foot farthest from Andrew. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”
“Please. I’ll bring you back when you want me to.”
Max was rooted in place, but his eyes turned up at the house, where a light glowed through the gauzy curtains in the upstairs windows. “Fine,” Max huffed. Andrew opened his car door and climbed in, and after a moment Max followed, dropping into the passenger seat.
In silence, Andrew backed into the street, gripping the wheel. A few months ago, he had no idea this person existed. Now his son was seated beside him as he coasted down the dark road. Max was larger than Andrew’s imagination had allowed, a grown adult, tall, filling the intimate space with his presence. Andrew could smell him, sweat and liquor, with something more, a note of familiarity.
“Nice car,” Max said acidly. “You could’ve sprung for the Prestige package, but ...”
Andrew frowned. Max was a mouthy little shit. He pulled into the empty lot at the public beach, a place he knew was familiar to Max, where his son might be comfortable, and shut off the engine.
Max rolled his eyes. “Long drive.”
Andrew climbed out of the driver’s seat. Max followed, and their footsteps scratched the sandy concrete. The streetlights were dimmed around them, as not to affect the hatching sea turtles; a glowing moon illuminated their surroundings. They sat together on a bench, Max putting an arm’s length between them.
In the moonlight, Andrew examined Max’s face, the shape of his lips, the slope of his nose. He was young and handsome, but his eyes were lost and defeated.
“You’re married,” Max observed bluntly, looking down at Andrew’s hands, flat on his thighs.
“I am.” Even the confirmation felt disingenuous.
“But you’re dating my mom.” The words were harsh with accusation.
“No.” Andrew shook his head. Max had effortlessly struck Andrew’s most guarded chord; where did he stand with Kathryn? Or Amy? “We’ve just been catching up. We have a complicated history.”
Max straightened. Andrew pressed his hands together and let the rhythmic boom of the waves wash over them. He didn’t want to push Max too far. Andrew now understood where some of the boy’s hurt came from. Now that his son knew who he was, there was no way he could fade into obscurity again. Maybe in time they could overcome their differences. “Listen, I brought you here so we can talk alone. About you, and me, and what that might mean. What you did, confronting your mother, myself, and Nick—I’m not saying it was okay, but you shouldn’t have had to resort to cornering all of us to get some answers.”
“How do you know the cop?”
“Nick? He’s my best friend.” The words burned.
Max’s face pinched. Then he exhaled a grunt. He turned to Andrew. “Okay, so where have you been for the last nineteen years?”
“I—I didn’t know ...,” Andrew stammered, buying himself a few seconds. He’d expected the question in one form or another, but it still caught him unprepared. A flicker of surprise crossed Max’s face before his jaw hardened. “I had no idea about you. This whole time.” Andrew took a deep breath. “Your mom and I were together in college. I loved her—like really loved her. But she left me, and we lost all contact. I never knew she was—about you. I tried to find her; I promise. But I didn’t try hard enough. When I moved here a few months ago, just down there”—Andrew motioned down the beach, where his house sat—“I ran into her. It wasn’t until then that she told me.”
The unfairness of it all stung. The breeze rustled the trees around them. Max’s brows furrowed. Andrew could see that Max had never considered that all his anger may have been misguided. “I’m sure you hate me—and you have every right—but I wanted to talk to you tonight because ... I wanted you to know I didn’t choose this. I didn’t have any say. I wouldn’t have stayed away from you. I know how that feels, and I would never have let you live that way. I would have chosen you. And I know we just met, but I think, at the very least, you deserve that explanation from me.”
Max appeared deep in thought. Andrew raked a hand through his hair, a rush of regret at recalling all the nights he’d called Kathryn’s parents’ house and was blown off. How easily he’d given up. If he’d gotten into his car and gone to talk to Kathryn face-to-face instead of diving into a bottle of rum, maybe he could’ve been involved in his son’s life. Looking back on all his mistakes, this overshadowed everything. If he had just changed that one little decision, he could have saved the little boy who sat beside him, now a grown man, paying for decades’ worth of other people’s mistakes. If Andrew had only tried one more time instead of surrendering to his own weakness, Max wouldn’t be who he was. Broken.
“Don’t blame your mom,” Andrew said. “I don’t know her reasons behind everything she did, but I’ve spent a lot of time with her lately and I know she thought she was doing what was best for you. That’s always been her intention.”
Max blinked, his face hard. So here’s Kathryn. Physically, their son was all Andrew, but the way Max expertly held on to the things that broke his heart—this was Kathryn.
“I’m sorry. We failed you in so many ways, intentional or not, and you deserved better. You deserve better.”
Remorse stabbed him, powerful, blinding. Andrew balled his fists. He yearned—more than he had for anything in his entire life—to turn back time, to catch Max before the world had hurt him. Andrew couldn’t articulate the depth of his regret, could never atone for the fact that neither of them would ever know what could’ve been. Andrew cleared his throat. “That’s not all I brought you here to talk to you about. I heard you fighting with Emmy.”
Max’s head snapped toward Andrew, and his voice dropped several octaves. “I’m not discussing Emmy with you .”
“Listen—you don’t have to. I’m not going to tell you I know how you feel. Maybe you two will be fine. It’s just—when my relationship with your mom ended, I had no idea how to handle it. I let everything fall apart around me. More than that”—Andrew hung his head—“I wanted to die, Max. And I very nearly did. I see a lot of myself in you, in your reactions, and I don’t want you to go down the same road I did.”
Max again turned his face toward the glowing moon.
“As much as I wish I could tell you it gets better, for me it didn’t, not for a long time,” Andrew said. “If I hadn’t gotten professional help, I wouldn’t be here. I would have hurt my parents, and everyone who loves me.”
A tear traced Max’s face, and he rushed to brush his cheek. Andrew reached over and set a hand on Max’s shoulder. The boy tensed but didn’t pull away. It was a tiny move, but it was monumental. For as long as he lived, Andrew knew he’d never look at anything the same way. And once again, Andrew recognized himself in his son in the most unsettling way, beyond the physical. Something mirrored in the two of them. He was certain Max had inherited the darkest parts of himself. But also he’d taken from Andrew his capacity to love with everything inside of him. It would be his greatest trait, but if Max wasn’t careful, it could also be his downfall. Still, if Andrew could pass anything to his offspring, it would be this.
And a realization dawned on Andrew, his son’s presence touching something deeper inside him than anyone in his life had before. Maybe his love for Max, or any child he brought into the world, would be far greater than the fragile fear he’d let govern his decisions until that point. He’d give his life for this person he hardly knew, of that he was certain. It was his purpose, sewn into his story decades, maybe lifetimes, ago.
In that moment, Amy and Kathryn didn’t exist. Andrew didn’t think of himself—the only thing that mattered was that Max knew he was present, that the two of them weren’t so far apart after all.
And with all his heart, he hoped he’d been brought into his son’s life for a reason, that he’d gotten to the boy before it was too late.